Exhausted, Talia slowly looked around the dim room.
Her nanny stood beside the bed, watching her with worried eyes.
The two young maids waited near the doorway, clearly prepared to run into the corridor and summon a priestess at a moment's notice.
Trying to reassure them, Talia muttered hoarsely,
"I think... I'm all right now."
"How does your stomach feel?"
Tiuran asked while sliding the hot compress farther down beneath her calf.
Talia gently rubbed her lower abdomen.
"It feels a little tight... but nothing severe."
"I'll bring you another cup of tea. It should help calm your mind."
With considerable effort, Talia pushed herself upright.
Beyond the open window, left ajar to air out the room, the evening sky was gradually turning crimson.
"Hasn't Varkas come back yet?"
"His Grace is at the Assembly Hall. He sent word several hours ago that he would be late."
As she tucked another pillow behind Talia's back, Tiuran answered gently.
Through the thin skin stretched across her stomach, Talia absently stroked the baby's tiny bottom, soothing her dissatisfaction.
Throughout the entire Season of Rest, Varkas had scarcely left her side.
He handled most of his work while seated at the desk that had been placed inside their bedroom.
Once the harsh cold arrived, he even reduced the number of occasions on which he went to the Assembly Hall or attended hearings at the city court.
Thanks to that, Talia had enjoyed the luxury of treating the Grand Duke of the East almost like her own personal servant.
Throughout the night, he would hold her as she groaned in pain, massaging her aching back.
He would fetch cool towels to wipe the sweat from her neck and face.
Sometimes he even prepared the heated compresses himself and kept them pressed against the aching parts of her body until she finally fell asleep.
However, once the Season of Water began, Varkas had no choice but to return to his demanding routine.
All the work postponed throughout the winter came crashing down upon him like a tidal wave.
While reorganizing the administration of the territory that had stagnated during winter, Varkas also led the knights through the military camps, personally inspecting the state of their armaments.
And those were far from his only responsibilities.
Large-scale military drills had begun in the training grounds of Laedgo Castle.
At some point, heavily armed messengers had also begun coming and going through the castle with increasing frequency.
Talia could feel the embers of war smoldering in the North slowly beginning to awaken.
Even so, she said nothing.
She desperately wanted to believe that even if war truly broke out in the North, it would never reach the East.
Varkas had already fulfilled his duty as a loyal subject by dispatching cavalry.
Everything beyond that belonged to the Imperial Family.
Perhaps Gareth will personally lead the campaign to suppress the rebellion.
If that man happened to die during the war, Talia would only be grateful.
Quietly giggling to herself as she imagined her half-brother impaled upon a northern warrior's blade, she suddenly froze.
A thought flashed through her mind like lightning.
Could Senevier be behind this war?
If the North truly declared independence, there was a high probability that the Crown Prince would be appointed supreme commander.
If she could simply drive him onto the battlefield, her mother would gain the perfect opportunity to eliminate her stepson without attracting the slightest suspicion.
Lost in the thought, Talia suddenly realized she was indulging in baseless fantasy and let out a quiet laugh.
No matter how immense Senevier's influence had become, she couldn't possibly manipulate the northern nobility from behind the scenes.
And even if such a thing were somehow possible...
Would her mother really go so far as to provoke a civil war?
If even a single piece of evidence connected the Empress to the rebellion, not even her position would spare her from the gallows.
There was no way Senevier would gamble on something so dangerous.
Smiling bitterly at her own absurd imagination, Talia suddenly felt her abdomen tighten.
She set down the teacup she was holding.
As she carefully shifted her position, she felt the hem of her skirt becoming damp and clinging unpleasantly to her legs.
She frowned.
She had struggled so violently earlier that she'd apparently soaked herself in sweat.
Swinging her feet over the edge of the bed, she motioned toward the maids.
"I think I should wash. Prepare a bath."
"Please hold on to me. I'll help you."
After moving the hot compress aside, Tiuran gently took hold of her arm.
Grasping the young healer's slender yet sturdy shoulder, Talia carefully rose to her feet.
Then suddenly—
She felt a warm liquid running down her thigh.
She froze.
Surely... I didn't wet myself?
Looking down in horror at the soaked hem of her skirt, she heard someone beside her sharply gasp for breath.
"My goodness!"
Assuming Tiuran had cried out after witnessing her humiliating accident, Talia's face instantly turned scarlet with shame.
Then she saw the terror filling the healer's eyes.
Her entire body went rigid.
A terrible premonition crawled down her spine.
"Summon the priestess immediately!"
Quickly easing Talia back onto the bed, Tiuran shouted at the maids.
"What are you all standing there for?! Her water has broken! Hurry!"